


Enslaved by Fate?

by rhodrymavelyne



Category: Dark Shadows (1966), Dark Shadows - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 22:20:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4155117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodrymavelyne/pseuds/rhodrymavelyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An extension of Barnabas' conversation in the original series, after Quentin is rejected by Jamison, about what would have happened, if he'd become a ghost. Now, Quentin only has Count Petofi and Angelique to deal with!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enslaved by Fate?

**Author's Note:**

> An extended conversation, like in much of the original show, only with all kinds of unresolved sexual tension in the air, as everyone plots. This is partly based on the original series, but partially based on my own take of the 'Dark Shadows' universe. Hey, if we're going to use a character based off of 'The Picture of Dorian Gray', it doesn't feel right, if there isn't some slashiness. ;) I decided to make Quentin's harem, ahem, a bit broader than in the original. ;) However, he's still engaged to Angelique, as well as in debt to Count Petofi. Gulp!  
> The quotes at the very beginning, come very close to what was said in the original series. Those lines belong to the original owners, not me.

“You would always be longing for Jamison’s love,” Barnabas said. Never had he sounded more sure of himself. “Even beyond the grave.” He looked Quentin straight in the eye. It was as if the vampire was looking straight into the werewolf’s soul. “When you saw David, heard his voice, he became the reincarnation of Jamison, for you.”

It was impossible to breathe, looking in Barnabas’ eyes. Quentin wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the vampire’s powers of mesmerism, or if it was simply the man himself.

“Trust Barnabas on this.” The dry voice of Dr. Julia Hoffman, thick with an oddly feminine sarcasm shattered the hypnotic moment between the two men. “He knows exactly what he’s talking about.”

Indeed, Quentin thought, not sure if he was annoyed or amused by this odd, futuristic woman’s interruption. The flash of pain and anger in Barnabas’ eyes confirmed Dr. Hoffman’s words. Someone had come between Barnabas Collins and Dr. Julia Hoffman, unless that person had always stood between them. The way Beth had stood between Jamison and himself, not that Quentin could exactly blame her. Anymore than Barnabas could blame his Julia Hoffman. For that’s exactly what she was. It was obvious Dr. Hoffman was in love with Barnabas. It was equally obvious that Barnabas cared about her deeply, but didn’t return her love. It reminded Quentin only too keenly of his own feelings for Beth Chavez. He’d never loved her, even though she’d loved him. Quentin hadn’t truly loved any of his paramours; Jenny, Laura, Evan, Charles, Beth, Rachel, Angelique, he wasn’t even sure if he loved Amanda. They’d been obsessions, passions, something to collect, no matter how madly they’d been in love with him. The only person Quentin had ever truly loved was Jamison. However, that one special bond had been thrown into jeopardy, thanks to Angelique.

Did Angelique even love Quentin? One look into Barnabas’ intense dark eyes made the werewolf seriously doubt that, as he let out a private, internal chuckle. He didn’t think so. Not after being mesmerized by Barnabas’ eyes for so long. Quentin Collins was a game to Angelique, a prize. This particular knowledge caused no resentment in the werewolf. He’d regarded his own lovers as prizes to be won, as Angelique herself had once been a prize to win from Barnabas. However, Quentin was more than just a conquest to the witch. He was a game piece, a pawn in some elaborate game Angelique was playing with Barnabas. This knowledge might have amused and intrigued Quentin at one time, but Jamison had become involved in the game. Quentin had agreed to marry her, in order to save the one person he truly loved. If he tried to back out of the bargain, Quentin had no dount Jamison would suffer. On the other hand, being married to Angelique was bound to be a lot like being in debt to Count Petofi.

“Enslavement,” Barnabas murmured, as if he’d heard Quentin’s thoughts. He wasn’t looking at Quentin, though. He had a far away look in his eyes, as if he was concentrating on something only he could see. “Every step you take leads to some sort of enslavement.”

“What do you mean?” Quentin asked, though he had an uneasy feeling he knew exactly what. “Enslavement to whom?”

“Whom, indeed?” The question was almost sinister on the vampire’s lips. “I thought it was a what, since you seemed enslaved to fate, for all of Angelique’s attempts to change it, but no. Count Petofi did change it.” The troubled look in Barnabas’ eyes was almost protective, as he looked at Quentin. The werewolf was oddly touched by his cousin’s concern. “It seems you are destined to be enslaved by a whom. Or that whom will try to enslave you. In your original destiny, it was Angelique.” Barnabas’ frown grew, as he studied Quentin. “In this one, it’s Petofi.”

The thought was enough to make the werewolf shudder. “Angelique wasn’t here in my original destiny,” Quentin said, meeting Barnabas’ intense gaze with one of his own. Looking into the vampire’s eyes seemed to drain some of his fear away, although Quentin knew Barnabas was as terrified as he was. “She came to this time and place, because of you. She’s here, because you’re here.”

“I would have been here, regardless, chained up in my coffin, in the Collins family crypt,” Barnabas pointed out. “Angelique came here, because you and Evan Hanley summoned her here. I know her destiny is intertwined with Evan Hanley’s.” Barnabas turned the force of his penetrating gaze upon Quentin. Again, the werewolf felt like the vampire was reading his soul. “How do you know Angelique’s destiny isn’t linked with yours?”

“Angelique wants to marry me.” Confessing this to Barnabas felt like releasing a weight resting upon his chest. He could hear Dr. Hoffman’s slight intake of breath. “I know. She’s completely obsessed with you. You’re the only man she’s ever loved, but she wants to marry me.” He was responding to Dr. Hoffman, but his words were for Barnabas. 

“Angelique wants you, no, she needs you for some purpose of her own.” The protective look was back in Barnabas’ eyes. “Count Petofi needs you, too. We must find out why they want you. Both of them.”

It was oddly reassuring, seeing this protective look in Barnabas’ eyes. Quentin knew how fierce Barnabas could be about looking after Jamison, David, and Quentin’s own descendents. It touched the werewolf, knowing that, he, Quentin, was one of the recipients of the vampire patriarch’s protective urges. 

“As oddly direct as it seems, we could try asking them straight out.” Quentin offered Barnabas his wry smile. Unknown to him, it had softened around the edges. “If anyone can get an honest answer out of Angelique, it’s you.”

“While Petofi is more likely to talk to you than anyone else,” Barnabas said with a sigh. “You are what he once was. Besides, he likes you.”

“This all sounds very civilized, but aren’t you gentlemen taking things a little too easy?” Once again, Dr. Hoffman’s sharp voice seemed to rebuke both men. “Or have you forgotten, Barnabas, that the rest of the Collins family is hunting you?” Dr. Hoffman marched forward, fixing both men with her stern gaze. Once more, Quentin was struck by Julia Hoffman’s almost masculine presence, though her sharp voice was irritatingly feminine. “Not to mention Petofi had plans for both of you. You need to hide from your enemies, not chat with them.”

“I noticed you didn’t include Angelique on the list of enemies,” Quentin said, letting his eyebrow lift, as equal sarcasm filled his voice.

“He’s right, Julia.” Barnabas’ voice was much softer than Quentin’s, as he turned his penetrating gaze upon her. “You of all people should know better than anyone to underestimate Angelique. Not to mention how difficult it is to hide from her.”

“Leave Angelique to me.” This time, it was the doctor who sounded completely sure of herself. A small smile played across her generous mouth. “I think she’s going to be our ally in all this.”


End file.
